


Team Rainbow Underground

by thepotatoaccount



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Het and Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Military, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Original Character(s), Rare Pairings, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-28 16:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20428673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepotatoaccount/pseuds/thepotatoaccount
Summary: Following the sudden assassination of Harishva "Harry" Pandey in August 2019, Team Rainbow is officially disbanded and the White Masks grow overwhelmingly powerful and influential on the world stage. Though the tables have turned, the operators still fight back on their own terms.  A collection of one-shots written within this setting that will be added in rough chronological order. Numerous characters, pairings, recruits and noncombatant OCs. The operators will need all of their camaraderie, training and allies to take the world back. This setting is free for anyone to adopt if desired, but tag me if you do so I can come over and read it.Each chapter will be labelled with the major characters and relationships featured.





	1. Prologue (Harry)

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to PripyatFitz as my beta reader, who also helped to put my swarm of brainworms through boot camp so they could march in formation on AO3 :)

[REDACTED], USA  
20 August 2019, 23:28

Harishva ‘Harry’ Pandey logged off and closed his laptop, removing his glasses to pinch and rub at the skin between his eyes. His final task for the day had been a conference call to the Kanal facility in Hamburg to check that Team Rainbow’s two latest recruits, Goyo and Amaru, were settling smoothly. The time zone difference necessitated him staying up late, though Harry didn’t mind. Working from home also meant that he could peruse all the psychology books and reference material he wished without being constantly eyeballed by skeptical military top brass, but it meant that he sometimes found it hard to ‘clock out’ and have some semblance of work-life separation. He was well aware that his peers found his personal involvement in the social lives of Team Rainbow unconventional, even dangerous; but Harry was an unconventional leader in an unconventional war.

Outside his window, the garden was silent, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Across the road, the only living creature in line of sight was the neighbor’s beagle cross. The dog stood up to glance up at Harry as he drew back the curtain, before it turned around, yawned and returned to its slumber beneath the lilacs. Harry acknowledged that a suite in Hereford base, or perhaps Kaid’s fortress, would be much more secure than a nondescript suburban home, but he liked the simple freedom of being able to pick up groceries alone and wander incognito among the crowds at the mall. All the better to remind himself of the people that Team Rainbow, and by extension himself, was protecting. Living in a bunker with elite soldiers would make it too easy to lose that perspective. If the operators wanted his company, they could always visit. 

Yasmin always welcomed them warmly; and even tolerated his irregular work hours without resentment towards its secretive nature. For that, Harry was eternally grateful, though he was also keen to not test his wife’s patience. It was high time he joined her in bed. He walked towards the door of the study and then suddenly froze in his tracks. His sixth sense told him something was amiss.

Feigning unconcern, Harry turned around and crept slowly back to his desk, all the while listening for any intruders and watching for any movements out of the corner of his eye. Nothing looked or sounded out of place, but as a psychologist, Harry knew that one’s subconscious often perceived threats that were beyond the threshold of conscious detection; and he did not let down his guard. A few seconds later, he realized what was amiss. The neighbor’s dog wasn’t barking.

At 11.30pm sharp, a plain-clothes security guard and his protection dog were supposed to walk past Harry’s front gate on their routine patrol. The Alsatian was well-trained and did its job quietly, but the neighbor’s beagle would bark at every passing dog. Tonight, the beagle was silent.

Harry slid his hand under the desk and touched a hidden fingerprint sensor, and a compartment disguised as part of the antique’s floral carvings slid open to reveal his Beretta 96. Harry retrieved the pistol, spun and took cover beside the nearest window. The home had multiple hidden security cameras installed, but he didn’t have time to turn his laptop back on to monitor the feeds. 

Now he had to reach Yasmin.

Harry bolted out of the study door and slammed it shut behind him. He could hear his wife stir in annoyance at the noise in their bedroom down the hallway, followed by the creak of mattress springs as she climbed out of bed. Not for the first time, Harry wished that his wife took up the basic self-defense lessons offered by Team Rainbow to civilian spouses. He prayed Yasmin had the good sense to not stand at a window or open the curtains. He ducked as he passed the small window to his left; while turning to keep an eye on the stairway on his right, which remained dark and silent. Across the stairway was another, taller window which faced another neighbor’s wall and part of their roof, on which stood the unmistakable hooded figure of a White Mask. 

In the split second it took Harry to register the White Mask’s presence, the terrorist fired. The shots shattered the glass and he felt five rounds connect with his upper chest. It felt like being punched hard, and after he hit the floor, it took another second for the unbearable burning, piercing sensation to set in… but by then, Harry was losing consciousness. Yasmin was screaming, wailing as she threw open the bedroom door to rush towards him, even as he silently begged her to stay down. The only consolation Harry had as his vision faded to black was that he could see the White Mask had left, his mission accomplished. 

As Harishva ‘Harry’ Pandey slipped into oblivion, his final thoughts were: _Take care of Yasmin, Team Rainbow. And each other. I’m sorry it had to end this way._


	2. Mira x Nøkk

Hereford Base, England  
29 September 2019, 13:42

_“…is deemed to have failed in its objective of eliminating the threat posed by the White Masks. As such, Team Rainbow will be formally disbanded with effect from 4 October 2019 and its operatives and resources transferred back to their respective units of origin…”_

Knuckles white with rage, Elena "Mira" María Álvarez resisted the temptation to hurl the monitor across the workshop by settling for snapping the ballpoint pen she held in her right hand. It was an uncharacteristic loss of composure for the researcher. Mira didn’t notice the splatter of blue ink until she felt the stickiness when she relinquished her death grip on its remains. 

There was more. So much more.

_“...disposition are as follows:  
\- Operators above 55 years of age as of 4 October 2019 are exempt from transfer and will be offered severance packages commensurate with their length of service…”_

Good luck forcing Thatcher and Kaid into an early retirement, Mira thought. She knew the others were already giving the former a wide berth in the corridors outside; and did not envy being the hapless pencil pusher sent to evict the latter. 

_“…  
\- With immediate effect, all firearms and equipment assigned to individual operators are to be surrendered…”_

Guns were replaceable, but the unique gadgets each operator brought to Team Rainbow were harder to part with. Mira had the resources and skill to build Black Mirrors without access to a sophisticated military laboratory and would only be temporarily inconvenienced by giving up her current inventory; and she knew Kapkan, Frost and Gridlock likely also had the ability. But she knew that not all of the more tech-savvy operators had the foresight to trademark their creations as Pulse did. Echo, Twitch, Mozzie and many others would seriously struggle to cope with the loss of their equipment; though at least the drones stood a chance of being adopted and mass-produced by their respective militaries and assigned back to them. Unfortunately, older ‘obsolete’ items like Montagne’s shield and Tachanka’s venerable LMG would just end up discarded.

The next section detailed the fate of the individual training facilities. Most were self-evident, being handed over to the CTUs of whichever country they were in, but Hereford Base was more than that – it also housed Team Rainbow’s research and development wing. Her lab.

_“…Hereford Base in its entirety is to be returned to the British Army Special Air Service (SAS). It is understood that Team Rainbow’s Research and Development program is housed at this facility and that the acting Research and Development Director, codenamed "Mira", is a Spanish citizen and member of GEO. They will remain posted here to oversee the closed auction and transport of research equipment and sensitive material to former Team Rainbow member states or until 31 December 2020, whichever comes first…”_

Mira groaned. She had until the end of the Brexit transitional period to sell off everything she had worked so hard to put together. The entire missive sounded like it was written by someone, or more likely a committee, who had a personal vendetta against Team Rainbow and wanted to make the process as miserable as possible. For a few moments she could only stare at the screen, heartbroken and in disbelief. Mira only looked up when she felt a faint breeze against her cheek and watched her computer shut down, apparently of its own accord. 

“You know, that I know you’re there, Miss Redacted.” She turned to face nothing in particular, forcing a smile. “No need to hide. This isn’t the boy’s locker room.”

Nøkk phased into view, lifting the veil from her features as she did so. “Oh come on _min kære_, you know me better than that. I only turn invisible so I can ogle you in the shower.”

“I’m not in the mood today, if you are hinting…”

“- I AM hinting.” She smirked.

Mira sighed. Perhaps three months wasn’t long enough for Nøkk to feel particularly attached to the unit, which would explain her apparent lack of concern about the current state of affairs. “You know that after Team Rainbow is disbanded, you probably won’t get to keep the HEL, and we might not be able to see each other as much anymore.”  
“Not if I can help it.”

Mira tried avert her gaze from Nøkk. It wasn’t enough to avoid looking into her eyes, as the operator’s lips were easily as expressive. Mira remembered that when Nøkk first joined Team Rainbow, she’d overheard all the canteen gossip among the recruits; mean-spirited jokes about Nøkk’s veil concealing a face as hideous as a gorgon’s. When Nøkk drew her veil aside to eat, her mixed parentage was obvious to see…and she was by no means hideous. In addition, far from being intimidating and mysterious, Nøkk was a prankster who rivalled Thermite in her mischief.

“You’re not thinking of pulling some strings with your family connections, are you?” Mira half-jokingly asked.

“I am offended you would even consider that,” Nøkk stuck out her tongue. “I go where I want. Have you forgotten that I’m already technically in jail?”

“No I have not, but…look, I’m grateful for you, and any visits in the future. But I’m sure you know how much my work here has meant to me all these years. Team Rainbow is something bigger than serving a single country or military. I’ve poured my heart and soul into giving us the technological edge against a global threat, but it was not enough to save Six.” _And he chose me. He chose us all_. Mira swallowed. “Just…let me compose myself so I can be the over-glorified saleswoman that NATO wants me to be.”

“You have until the end of next year to do that. You have just five more days with me…and it IS Sunday…” Nøkk reached over to lightly run her fingers through Mira’s hair. 

“Hey…” 

Mira tried to brush her hand away, only to have Nøkk deftly catch it and hold it just long enough to plant a kiss on it, leaving the dark imprint of her lipstick on the Spaniard’s hand. Mira sighed.

“Ok, point taken. Just give me a few minutes and…”

Nøkk tapped her HEL device and vanished.

The chase was on. Mira rose from her seat and saw the office door swing open. She immediately sprinted towards it, only to have it swing shut in her face as soon as she reached the threshold. She thought she could hear faint laughter.

_Ok, that does it_, Mira thought. _You want me to chase you? Fine. I will find you. And when I find you…_  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Later that night…

Somewhere in the pile of clothing at the foot of Nøkk’s bed, Mira’s phone rang. A flurry of limbs and bedsheets disentangled themselves; and Mira scrabbled about in the pile until she could dig it out. It was Jackal.

“Ryad? _Hola. ¿Cómo estás?_”

In an instant, Mira was wide awake.

“What do you mean by ‘the Spetsnaz are missing’!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> min kære - my dear (Danish)  
Hola. ¿Cómo estás? - Hello. How are you? (Spanish)


	3. Jackal, Lion, Pulse and recruits

“Border” Training Facility  
[REDACTED], [REDACTED] kilometres north of [REDACTED], Kuwait-Iraq border, Kuwait  
29 September 2019, 16:10

The dull rumble of distant traffic was a constant backdrop to the operators stationed at the Border facility. On a clear day, if Jackal stood on the second floor balcony, he could just make out the snaking line of vehicles queuing up to depart through the Kuwaiti Overland Customs Clearance checkpoint on the horizon, but the cars and trucks on the bitumen on either side of the building he was in had not moved in years. Not since the Kuwaiti authorities managed to intercept a White Mask truck smuggling an anthrax-based biological weapon when it was still in operation, resulting in a messy gun battle (during which the truck caught fire) and Team Rainbow being called in. When the dust settled, the squad had saved hundreds of lives and resolved a major international incident; but the area needed weeks of decontamination. The highway was diverted with a shiny new checkpoint, complete with shopping and entertainment, to serve the public and distract them from the site of the incident; and Team Rainbow was offered the old one as a regional headquarters. Political tensions in the Middle East being what they were, it was a rare opportunity for the unit to have a strategic presence in the region with few or no strings attached. 

While barracks, exercise facilities, helipads and armouries were added, the old structure itself was retained as an urban warfare training area and meticulously replicated in virtual reality. Now, operators could spend all week shooting at each other in simulated combat and then wander a few miles to buy fast food and browse overpriced handbags on their days off. Despite its outwardly desolate appearance, Border was one of the cushier Team Rainbow postings; and its operators were also responsible for receiving and training recruits from the Middle East and the African continent.

The four Kenyan recruits stood in a row, frozen at attention in the corridor in front of their quarters. Dressed in dusty fatigues, they had been dragged unceremoniously away from their afternoon exercises by Jackal and Lion. Bare, dark-complexioned feet poked incongruously out from under their pants legs. In front of each man stood a pair of Russian-made combat boots, socks tucked neatly into their tops.

Not for the first time, Ryad wished he had Taina to assist him in questioning the men. He was too mellow, more used to gleaning information from patient observation than by prying it out of people. Lion wasn’t an interrogator either, but his size and loudness made him an acceptable, if crude, stand in for their impromptu good-cop-bad-cop routine. Right now, it was Olivier’s turn to demand how exactly the four came to be wearing Tachanka’s, Kapkan’s, Glaz’s and Fuze’s boots on a cross-country run that sent him on a merry chase with the Eyenox, so Jackal took the opportunity to stand back and replay the events of the last few hours in his mind.

Earlier, on noticing the four Spetsnaz’s absence from lunch, he’d gone to check for them in the sick bay. It was an understatement to say that the Russians were a close-knit group; and Ryad had initially considered the possibility that one of them was unwell and the others were keeping him company. When they did not turn up in the sick bay, Jackal went to their quarters, but they did not answer his knock on their doors. Still not yet assuming they were AWOL, Jackal kept an eye out for them at the shooting range and the gym later, finally voicing his concerns to the others and Mira when they were still nowhere to be found. 

Calls to their mobile phones went unanswered, though they could be heard ringing in their rooms. Following a quick discussion, it was decided that Pulse would use his heartbeat sensor to check if they were still lurking in their rooms; and if not, Jackal would try and track them down within the base. As feared, they had well and truly vanished, taking most of their belongings. Which left Jackal to weed out their footprints from the sea of tracks in the hallways. To his surprise, the most recent set emerged from a shower in the recruits’ barracks, led out of the base and into the desert yonder…and looped back after eight kilometres. 

Jackal reflected that if it weren’t for his dogged tracking instincts and love of the chase, he would be a very angry man by now. Instead, his confusion was matched only by the recruits he finally caught up with.

“Are you expecting me to believe that the Spetsnaz just walked to your bathroom and *gave* them to you?” Lion bellowed. 

“…Yes sir!” 

Truth be told, Ryad pitied the KDF recruits. Rumor was that after Goyo and Amaru, the next Team Rainbow operators would be drawn from Kenya and India, and the Kenyans had the misfortune of turning up at Border only days after Harry’s death. Ordinarily, incoming batches of recruits would undergo assessment to identify one or more individuals who would be a good fit for the core of the Team, becoming a codenamed operator like himself or Lion, while the remainder would continue to serve in less sensitive operations or where a massed response was called for. With the impending disbandment of Team Rainbow, their fate was in limbo.

He took over, speaking calmly.

“Please forgive my companion here. As you surely know, we are all facing a difficult time and Olivier and I are just concerned. You were the last ones to see the Russians. Tell me what happened.”

One of them, whose nametag bore the surname ‘Makena’ replied.

“Sir, the Spetsnaz came to our showers this morning after breakfast. One of them…the one who wears a green hood when fighting…said that they had been issued new boots but their old ones were still in good condition. If they fit, we could keep them…”

“And this did not seem weird to you, Corporal Makena?” Lion was cynical.

“Sir… since our arrival, Team Rainbow still has not issued us new boots, and our fitness test is supposed to be this week. We were grateful.”

Jackal grimaced inwardly in understanding. With only five days left for Team Rainbow, supplying the new recruits was of low priority. 

“Were the Russians wearing their new boots when they came to see you?” Ryad asked.

“No sir.”

“What were they wearing?”

“T-shirts and shorts. Carrying their sneakers. Sir.”

“Carrying…?”

“The floor was wet sir.”

_So that is why I couldn’t recognize their prints. Jackal realized, absentmindedly rubbing at the Eyenox. The water prevented them from leaving prints inside the bathroom and hid the switch. They’d planned all this. They’d planned this because of *me*._

“Did Kap- …the man who fights in the green hood, or any of the other three, say anything else?” he asked.

“They wished us luck in our upcoming fitness test. That is all.”

“And then?”

“We put on the boots and left.”

Lion drew Jackal aside. “Ryad, I don’t think we’re getting any more out of them. They have no reason to cover for the Spetsnaz, and the Spetsnaz had no reason to confide in them. But if I may…I’d like to have a word with you in private. Shall we dismiss them?”

_Might as well, since we’re getting nowhere._ “Fine. Men, you are dismissed,” Ryad spoke.

The four visibly relaxed, but remained where they stood. 

“Um..sir? Can we keep the boots?” one of them sheepishly piped up.

Olivier opened his mouth as if to retort in anger, only to sigh and correct himself.

“Keep them. They’re good boots. Each pair costs about half what your monthly salary used to be, and you’ll probably be back in Nairobi next week. Consider them a token of apology.”  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“So what did you want to tell me, Olivier?”

Jackal and Lion sat facing each other in the privacy of a soundproof mission briefing room. They were joined by Pulse, who glanced furtively over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.

“I know how hard it is for you to let your quarry go, but I don’t think we should be hunting down the Russians anymore. Pulse and I know why they’ve gone.”

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jack spoke up. “Honestly, I hoped you would catch up with them and change their minds, but I understand their reasons.”

“What reasons?”

Olivier leaned forward. “I would normally respect my comrades’ privacy and not disclose this sort of information, but…they’re gay. And Russia is…well, no longer the best place for them.”

“_All_ of them?” Ryad was incredulous.

“Things have only gotten worse since they joined Team Rainbow in 2015.” Olivier added. “Team Rainbow has been a family, a home away from home for all of us, but especially them. This refuge disappears forever when the helicopter comes to take them back to Moscow next week.”

Ryad crossed his arms. “I’m not homophobic, don’t get me wrong…But _all four_ is statistically a little hard to believe.”

Lion grinned at Pulse. “Well, I noticed they sometimes looked at each other the way Yumiko gazes at your derrière when you lift weights…”

“…it’s mutual, Olivier. Anyway, one night I was tinkering with my cardiac sensor and it showed me four heartbeats rising and falling together on the other side of the wall separating my room from Tachanka’s. The pattern was consistent with bursts of mild to moderate exertion, and…”

“Whoa…ok, I believe you.” Jackal said hastily. This was too much information. “So you think they’re safer on the run?”

“The Middle East is hardly any safer, but at least they aren’t being targeted specifically. From my conversations with Kapkan, it seems that their orientation was suspected by their former superiors, and would have been considered at odds with their status as decorated veterans. An inconvenient dilemma for the propagandists. So they were sent to Team Rainbow.” Olivier replied.

“Out of Russia, out of sight, out of mind. I get it now.” Ryad sighed. “Think they’ll eventually settle someplace nice? Maybe apply for asylum?”

“If or when the time comes, Jack and I intend to step forward as sponsors, should they apply to America or France.”

“Well I can hardly refuse to extend the same, can I?”

“That settles it then,” Pulse leaned back. “We’ll tell the Canucks, Brits and Germans to keep a look out eventually, but keep it hush-hush for now. As far as we are concerned, the four Spetsnaz vanished into thin air and nobody knows why or to where. But I suspect we will meet again.”


	4. Ying, Lesion, Echo x Dokkaebi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did add the Politics tag...
> 
> This chapter was a huge challenge to write but I'm proud of the end result.

Hereford Base, England  
1 October 2019, 03:30

Masaru “Echo” Enatsu was uncharacteristically awake while the base slept, save for the nighttime security shift. Long before he could hear the engine of the armoured Lexus pull into the driveway, he’d been hard at work. Even Dokkaebi finally slumped over in exhaustion; though to be fair, she’d started days before he did. He glanced across the table at IQ. Monika’s screen cast a flickering light on her face as it ran a long script, but her eyes were shut. On the floor, Mute lay curled up, his jacket rolled into a makeshift pillow. They wouldn’t miss him for a while.

Quietly, he rose to his feet and glanced out of a window, before he left the room. The little red flag on the bonnet opposite the Union Jack confirmed what he suspected about the vehicle’s mission. He didn’t have much time to say goodbye. It seemed that with the current unrest in Hong Kong, the Chinese government wanted its SDU operators back so urgently that it couldn’t wait till Friday. When he emerged outside, Masaru could just make out through the window tint the seated shapes of two men in the cabin – the driver and a man he presumed was a consular official. The driver stepped out as if to greet him; only to stop short suddenly.

“Oh, you’re not Lesion. Sorry.”

“Yeah, you won’t be the first to mix us up.”

He did greet Lesion a few seconds later when the older man emerged, with Ying not far behind him. Both were carrying rucksacks and wore hoodies against the pre-dawn chill. Echo’s heart sank when he saw that the two operators still avoided each other’s gaze, their conflict clearly unresolved. In the few weeks since Harry’s death, the relationship between two of his dearest friends had deteriorated alarmingly. 

At first they kept it discrete; only making the odd quiet, snarled remark when the others weren’t paying attention to them. Then came increasingly longer arguments in muffled, rapid-fire Cantonese behind closed doors that nobody else could understand, leaving Echo powerless to help. Next was the shouting match in the corridor after lunch; that ended with Lesion stalking off to wail on a punching bag for hours while Ying excused herself from the afternoon’s physical training. Both brushed off Masaru’s concerned enquiries until Ying finally snapped at Lesion in English.

“YOU ARE JUST LIKE FUZE!”

Just like that, Masaru could finally join the dots and figure out what their argument was about. Both were returning to Hong Kong and knew they would be deployed in the riots. Both knew that their respective inventions, the Gu mine and Candela, would likely see mass production and immediate use. The world they left behind to join Team Rainbow had changed drastically and neither looked forward to battling civilian hordes. Ying could cope with the Candela being appropriated – it was non-lethal, but the Gu mine was a different story. She was begging Lesion to rebel. To defect, resign, or perhaps sabotage the formula so that he was not complicit in killing protestors. Lesion acknowledged the risk was considerable, but argued that staying around to oversee the manufacture of the Gu and leveraging his seniority within the system would reduce its misuse.  
As a friend to both, the impasse was tearing Masaru’s conscience and loyalties apart. Though it took a couple of years, his former turbulent fling with Mei Lin evolved eventually into an understanding that they were better off as friends; while Lesion was a humble, affable man whose mental fortitude and work ethic was a constant source of inspiration to him. Now they were leaving and Echo could only reminisce about better times.

The driver popped the boot for the two operators to store their bags and Ying walked all the way to the far side of the vehicle from Lesion to place hers inside, turning her back to him as she opened the passenger side door.

Echo’s window of opportunity was closing. He called out. “Wait…I just came to say goodbye.”

Ying stopped, her expression softening.

“Masaru… it’s been thirteen years. I forgave you, you know?”

“Such a trivial thing in hindsight.” Masaru shook his head. “Yokais can be rebuilt. Replaced. But not a friend like you.”

“I don’t regret a moment of serving with you, Enatsu-kun.” She allowed a faint smile to accompany the playful honorific, one he had not heard in over a decade.

“One last time…?” Masaru held his arms out and Mei Lin pulled him into a hug, leaning to whisper something into his ear, and then just as quickly pulling away.

“Goodbye Masaru.” 

Ying turned away before he could respond, but Echo knew that she simply did not want him to see the tears forming in her eyes.

“You too, Tse Long…” Echo gently patted the older man on the shoulder.

Lesion turned to face him. Under dim lighting, or perhaps the emotional strain of the past few days, the man looked older than Echo remembered, accentuating the faint wrinkles under his eyes and the slight sagging at the edges of his mouth. Though not as extraordinarily well-preserved as Jackal, Echo knew Lesion would be handsome enough to turn heads well into old age.

“I’ll miss this place and Team Rainbow.” His expression was wistful as he risked a glance at Ying. “Everyone.”

“Your dad would be proud of everything you’ve done. I’m sure he’s waiting and counting down the minutes till he sees you again.” Echo reminded him.

“I wish he could meet you, the SAS, Mira, and all the rest…but for his health, and Hong Kong…” Lesion drifted off, not wanting to mar his farewell by complaining about the current situation.

“I know. You don’t have to say it. And you know we’ll miss you. Goodbye, Ah Long.” It was an endearing nickname that Echo and some of the other team members had started calling Lesion when they overheard his father calling him the same over the phone. 

Lesion responded by hugging Echo. Like Ying, he whispered into his ear before stepping back.

“Goodbye Masaru.”

A polite cough from the other passenger in the Lexus prompted the two SDU operators to hasten their departure. Echo watched as they shut the doors behind them and buckled up. He kept watching as the car pulled away, until he was completely alone with his thoughts.

He pondered what Lesion and Ying had each whispered into his ear so that the other could not hear. What did they mean by “_I’ll see you again_”?  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Echo returned to the hackers’ circle, Dokkaebi was awake and sipping coffee. She grunted an acknowledgement of his return; too groggy to look up, let alone code, for the moment. Mute sat up and yawned. IQ hadn’t moved since he’d left.

At least the little green dot on the screen beside Mozzie’s avatar indicated that the other member of their coven was hard at work on the other side of the world. With immense force of will, Masaru pushed the events of the morning from his mind and returned to his own part in the mutiny. When the order came to disband Team Rainbow, the rebellion started quietly. Harishva “Harry” Pandey once told Grace that Team Rainbow needed people to be both hammers and scalpels. From what Echo could gather, Harry and Dokkaebi had a long discussion about the future of Team Rainbow and the growing need for operators who could give the team an edge in drone warfare and cyber-espionage. 

So it came as no surprise that Dokkaebi was the first to put her foot down and voice what was on everyone’s minds – after decades of obediently carrying out strikes against the organisation and handing over to NATO any terrorists they managed to capture alive, Team Rainbow was still kept in the dark about the White Mask’s organisational structure, reach and goals. Secondly, they had to pay for killing Harry and Team Rainbow were the only ones who could make them. Lastly, if they were going to be physically separated, then it would be up to the team’s most computer-savvy operators, programmers and hackers to keep everyone covertly networked. She made it clear that nobody was forced to join the effort if they were unwilling…but the response was surprisingly enthusiastic. If Vigil objected, he did not speak up; perhaps realising that Dokkaebi had already burned bridges with the 707th SMB long ago and had nothing to lose. Even Thatcher grasped at any chance she could offer to strike back at the White Masks; anything was preferable to an early retirement. The departure of the Spetsnaz and SDU operators unfortunately came before they could become entrenched, but tracking them down would have to wait until a secure framework was set up for them to use safely. 

Masaru bent over to plant a kiss on Grace’s cheek. If she was going to be a guerrilla leader, then he was going to make sure she never fought alone.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Heathrow Airport, London  
1 October 2019, 06:04

After checking in their rucksacks, Lesion and Ying followed their handler to the departure gate; each taking a seat on either side of him to avoid each other. The consular official, an older man with greying hair who introduced himself as Jun Ming, produced both genuine or convincing fake passports and tickets to get them on their flight. He was also dressed in simple civilian clothes to blend in. To the other passengers in transit, they looked like nothing more than a trio of tired tourists heading home. For several uncomfortable minutes, they sat and people watched or fiddled with their phones, until Ying suddenly stood up and moved over to Lesion. Jun Ming smiled at her, seemingly relieved that the two weren’t in immediate danger of going for each other’s throats.

She spoke to Lesion quietly in Cantonese. “Mr. Liu,” she muttered, emphasising the title’s cold formality, “I need to ask you a question.”

A pause. “Ask away.”

“Why we are here?”

“Because Team Rainbow is –"

“No. ‘Here’, as in _this departure lounge._”

Lesion turned towards her in slight puzzlement.

“Elaborate please.”

“This gate is for Air China Flight 288 to Ürümqi. Not Flight 745 to Hong Kong.” Ying gestured at the nearest flight information display.

A look of alarm flashed across Tse Long’s features. He turned to Jun Ming.

“Sir, we’re in the wrong lounge!”

Jun Ming shrugged. He took his time to relish Lesion’s growing discomfort before turning to the operator with a wry smile. 

“We are in the right lounge.”

“We are going to Hong Kong!” Lesion pointed at the same information display. “We need to move to Gate 8b…”

“We are in the right lounge.” The official’s smile broadened into a grin, exposing a row of teeth that were bleached to near-translucency. “Your next post is in Xinjiang.”

“What is the meaning of this?! SDU doesn’t deploy on the mainland!” Ying interjected.

“It does now. Let’s just say the Party has come to an agreement with your former comrades…”

“Why?” Lesion demanded.

“Did you really think that after a decade and a half of serving with the British, you would be trusted to arrest pro-British protestors? That after enjoying being a law onto yourselves, we would trust you to be as obedient as the younger recruits? Recruits who have grown up knowing nothing but the comfort and standard of living that our government has given them? No…we found you a position where there won’t be a conflict of interest.”

Lesion’s eyes narrowed. “We will not be ‘reeducation’ camp guards…” His voice quivered with barely suppressed rage.

Jun Ming’s smile faded. For a moment, the man looked pensive, perhaps even nervous about the prospect of getting beaten by Lesion, only to laugh out loud. Tse Long could feel his blood boiling and focused his gaze on the grey fillings in Jun Ming’s molars to stop himself from throttling him where he sat. Oblivious, the rest of the passengers continued to ignore them, either waiting or going nowhere fast.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry at all. You’re going to guard the factory of a multinational company manufacturing medical equipment.” He winked at Lesion. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy contributing to R&D. All the employees are fairly paid with good hours and benefits. Everything is legal and above board; there’s even foreign auditors. As for you, Miss Siu…” he turned to Ying, “the boss likes hiring pretty young things…so you’ll have plenty of work as an armed escort.”

The pair glowered at him; their differences forgotten as they subconsciously leaned towards each other protectively.

“We’re not monsters, as you can see. Now all you have to do is work hard, and you might get to see your parents in Hong Kong again.”


End file.
